


It's A Long Way Down

by KelliDiane



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, Football Player Liam, Football Player Louis, Football | Soccer, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Manchester City, Manchester United, So much football history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelliDiane/pseuds/KelliDiane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At age twenty-one, Louis is now starting for Manchester United every game. He’s had some amazing achievements so far, like being on England’s national under-21 team, and had played with some of the best up-and-coming stars. He’s a household name in Red Devil territory and he even manages to play in many charity games in the off season. It’s crazy how much his life has turned around in the short span of two years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Long Way Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garbagebins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagebins/gifts).



> Hello, love! Hope you enjoy this! I know little to nothing about football except that I love to watch it. So, naturally, I tried to become an expert on it in a small time frame (also, manutd.com is now on my most frequently visited page on my web browser). It's a bit longer than 3,000 minimum, but I really _really_ enjoyed writing this for you. I hope you like it and let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, big thank you to MillionaireLouis on tumblr. She helped me do so much with this fic and she's the best beta/britpicker you could ever ask for. Thanks a million, love!

Louis takes a deep breath as he does a few more stretches before they’d be called to line up and grab the hand of a child. It’s his first game as a starter at Old Trafford and he’ll be damned if anything’s going to break his focus. He’s already nervous enough that he’s the youngest starter on the team at age nineteen. He knows he’s talented- obviously- otherwise he wouldn’t even have been on Manchester United’s radar as a possible player, it’s just sometimes Louis thinks they made a mistake, that he’s not good enough to be a professional footballer in the first place.

He had only been seventeen years old, just having a kick about at the Doncaster Rover’s Football Summer Camp when he had been scouted. It wasn’t a secret that managers from all over the country came to small town football camps to find pure talent, and lucky for Louis, Sir Alex Ferguson had come out to his town. He hadn’t impressed with his original position of midfielder, but he _had_ impressed with his goalkeeping. Next thing he knew, he was being signed to the Red Devils and given a red jersey with the ever popular AON logo on the front.

He had worked hard- on and off the field. He became a better goalkeeper with a bit of training up from David de Gea and he even strengthened his other skills with help from Rooney and Welbeck. The 2012-13 season saw Louis on the bench as the team lead the way through to claim the Premier League title. It was a bittersweet win since Sir Alex Ferguson, the one who made Louis’ dream a semi-reality, retired as the club’s manager.

Now though, Mata- who United had acquired from Chelsea- was out with an injury and Louis had been asked to step up in his place. At nineteen, he’s finally getting his chance at being a football player professionally. He knew how to play and he knew what was at stake. There’s a hand against his back and he looks up to see Wayne Rooney giving him a confident smile.

“Don’t overthink anything out there. You’ve got a solid kick and passion- same as Juan. If you seen an opening, go for it.” Rooney squeezes his shoulder before moving down to the front of the line.

There’s a small girl beside him grabbing at his hand and then they’re off. The walk out of the tunnel seems to take forever and the blood is rushing to Louis’ ears and soon enough it’s all he can hear. He takes a deep breath though and heads out behind Danny Welbeck. The light blinds him for a second before the roar of the crowd breaks through his hearing and everywhere he looks there is a sea of red.

This is it.

************

Two goals. That was Louis’ opening game. He scored the very first goal of the match at the eighteen minute mark and another in the ninety-third minute. He had been interviewed by just about every sportscaster present at the match and Wayne Rooney had even told them that he wouldn’t mind playing alongside Louis again. It was only the start of a long career for Louis.

************

At age twenty-one, Louis is now starting for Manchester United every game. He’s had some amazing achievements so far, like being on England’s national under-21 team, and had played with some of the best up-and-coming stars. He’s a household name in Red Devil territory and he even manages to play in many charity games in the off season. It’s crazy how much his life has turned around in the short span of two years.

“What do you think of the incoming talent this season? Manchester City is boasting about having a forward who can finally keep up with you?” Rebecca Lowe asks Louis at a pre-season press conference.

Louis just laughs lightly and loosens his tie a bit. Press conferences have always been the worst part of his job. “I think all the teams are gaining great talent this season. Arsenal got Niall Horan from Derby and I think that will greatly improve their chances. Horan has this energy that I’m sure will come in handy since most of Arsenal seems to get discouraged if they ever fall behind. I know Newcastle snatched up the Harry Styles kid for a goalkeeper. I don’t expect them to actually put him on the field this season, but with his height he’ll be perfect once completely trained. As for City, well, if they think that twenty year old Liam Payne can keep up with me they are sorely mistaken. I’ve watched his footage- we considered signing him here- but he’s too stiff. He’s a great player, makes very smart and calculated moves, but it’s all science to him. There’s no heart, no passion. That’s what we Devils have in spades. Sure we all have a smidge of talent, but it’s our passion for the game that got us here.”

Rooney shoots him a smile at the critique, coupled with a compliment. Maybe Louis isn’t so bad at press conferences after all. He settles down after that, letting the general questions be answered by others who had been groomed into the perfect spokesperson. The only other time he speaks is when Rooney says that Louis is a force to reckoned with- on and off the field.

After the media is gone, Louis heads into the locker room at Old Trafford and stares at his locker. It’s empty right now except for some pictures of him and a couple of friends from back home and the gym bag of clothes he brought this morning. He makes a mental note to visit home this weekend since he’ll be busy with the season soon enough.

“Are you coming?” A voice behind him questions.

Louis turns and sees Ashley Young waiting for him at the exit door. “Nah, mate. I’m going to get some practice in. Haven’t had a practice by myself in a while. Kind of miss how relaxing it is.”

Young nods and gives him one last glance before heading out after the others.

Once he’s alone, Louis quickly changes into a pair of joggers and a shirt before slipping his boots on. He anxiously rolls his cold water bottle between his hands and sits on the bench for awhile, thinking about everything he wishes he could change about himself.

He's too short. He can't lose the bit of tummy around his middle. He's too loud. He's cocky. He's no good at press conferences. He never visits home. He's never met his newest brother and sister. He likes men.

That’s where his problem started. When he was younger he loved football, but when he was old enough to realise that he liked boys instead of girls he used the sport as a way to punish himself for his thoughts about his classmates and all the celebrities that his sisters crushed on. His practice though is what made him such a great player, so he didn’t quite mind continuing his routine.

He grabs a ball from the equipment room and makes his way out to the pitch. He knows he’s technically not allowed out there, but practicing here is better than at his home. In here, it feels more real. He often has to remind himself that this is his life now, this is real and he’s actually fulfilling his dream.

The empty stands make him feel small, like he’s just starting and has something to prove. He feels like he’s back in Doncaster at footie camp and being watched by Sir Alex Ferguson all over again. He takes a deep breath and lets the scent of grass and fresh air invade his senses. He feels all the speculation about him in the media- he’s too young to be a starter, he’s only playing because Mata is injured, he’s a one season wonder, he’ll never be a consistent starter- slip away and all he can picture, think about, smell, feel is the grass below his shoes and the ball in his hand.

The drops the ball to the pitch with a dull thud and kicks it softly. It doesn’t roll far, but Louis knows what he’s doing. He starts to jog in place and warm his muscles up for the workout he’s about to put them through. He stretches and loosens himself up quietly and carefully. It takes him a good ten minutes till he decides that he’s loose enough.

Flashing his eyes open, he can see the ball at midfield and he backs up to get a bit more room and a running start. He brings his foot down against the polyester object and sends it clear across the field. He watches as it hits the top bar of the net and bounces into the back of goal. Louis smiles brightly before jogging over to the goal line and looking down across the field.

He takes another moment to stretch his calves and thigh muscles before sprinting about ten yards and turning back to sprint to the goal line. He then sprints about twenty yards before turning to sprint back to the goal line. Louis continues this relentless sprinting all the way up to the fifty yard mark before pausing to take a gulp from his water bottle.

“One down, nineteen to go,” he whispers to himself before starting up the sprints again.

It takes him forty-five minutes to get all twenty of the suicides done. His legs are shaking, ready to give out from underneath him, when he finally downs the last of his water. He walks back to the goal and grabs the ball from the tangle of net before kicking it slowly back towards the locker room. He normally would push himself through a few more drills, but he can’t overdo himself with practices and a game coming up. Suicides will have to suffice for now.

************

“Oh! My boy is home!” Jay pulls her son into a huge hug as she opens the door wide.

Louis grunts as her arms squeeze him tightly and he can barely breathe. “Mum, stop! Can’t breathe! Can’t breathe!” He coughs a bit as he’s able to pull air into his lungs again. “How’ve you been? Managed to get a few days off before the season starts.”

Johannah smiles and pulls him into the home, shutting the door behind him. She takes his coat from his shoulders and hangs it up before calling the rest of the family down for dinner. “We’ve been okay. Lottie starts her GCSEs soon and Fizzy is moving up to secondary. The twins are excited to start Year Four.”

Fizzy comes down the stairs, short hair pulled up into a ponytail and an ankle brace surrounding her lower leg. “Louis! Finally!” She hurries as quickly as she can over to her brother and hugs him tightly. “I’ve already got my Tomlinson shirt ready to go for next weekend. I’m so stoked! After dinner, you need to show me a few more tricks.”

“What? So you can sprain your other ankle?” Lottie scoffs as she comes down the stairs, eyes glued to her phone and makeup thickly applied. “Hey, Lou.”

Johannah just rolls her eyes and ushers everyone into the kitchen. “Come on then. I made roast chicken and there’s enough for everyone.” She kisses at her son’s head before hugging him again. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Thanks,” he says warmly. “But I’m actually meeting Stan for dinner and drinks. I’ll be home tomorrow for your cooking though. Tonight was the only night Stan didn’t have any work plans. He’s got meetings with corporate tomorrow and then he flies out for a business trip on Sunday.”

“Fine, fine, fine. But you’ll be here for Sunday Roast, right?” Johannah inquires as she starts dishing up her daughter’s plate. “You haven’t been home for a family dinner in so long. Plus, I need you to meet Daniel. He’s going to be different then Troy and Mark- I can feel it.”

Louis doesn’t say anything about his mother’s latest boyfriend- he doesn’t want to seem like the pessimist he knows he is. “I don’t know. I have to be back at the training grounds early on Monday. I’d rather not have to wake up at four on Monday morning just to get to the stadium on time. It would be a lot faster to head in from my flat. I’ll let you know.”

With a chorus of goodbyes following him out the door, he makes his way back out to his car and towards the restaurant that he was meeting Stan at for dinner. He tries to get a hold of himself along the way to the restaurant.

He loves hanging out with Stan, but he knows how they both get after a few drinks. Stan is openly gay and it’s something that Louis envies about his friend. In his mind, Louis knows that Stan is accepted and nothing had really changed after his best mate came out; he knows that he too could be accepted and be happy with someone he truly loved. But he worried about his future. How would his teammates react? How would that impact his football career?

“Louis! Lou!”

Louis looks up as he hears his name being called. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realised that he had made it to the restaurant, parked the car, and even had made it to the door outside the restaurant. He shoved his thoughts away and smiled brightly at his best friend. “Hey! It’s been way too long.”

The two friends embraced in the street before Stan laughed softly. “Fuck, Lou, you’re muscles have practically doubled in strength. This football thing is really filling you out.”

“I should hope so. Weak and uncommitted players don’t make it this far and they certainly don’t get to start against Tottenham next weekend.” Louis says as nonchalantly as he can, a small smile on his face.

“You really are a big headed twat,” Stan laughs, shaking his head.

Louis laughs as well, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket as a distraction. “I try my best.”

They continue to talk as they head inside and are quickly seated- away from the windows at Louis’ request. They’re quiet as they ponder what to order.

Once everything had been settled and they each had a pint and a shot of whiskey near them, Stan began to wonder about his friend’s life. “So is there any lucky lady in your life who gets to watch you play?”

Louis looks at the table debating what to say to his friend. He’s never before lied to Stan, but he’s so tired of keeping this secret from everyone. Even if it would mean exposing himself for the disgusting faggot he is. “No, no lady to watch me play. I don’t think there will ever be a lady in my life.” His eyes track a rivulet of water that runs down the frozen pint glass before he sighs and looks up to see Stan staring at him. “There’s no lady alive who would want to put up with me.”

“Lou,” Stan says sadly as he looks at his best friend, “there’s someone out there for you. Maybe… Maybe someone like Alex Greenwood. She’s a footballer. She’ll understand about your crazy schedule and wanting to be perfect. She has to understand.”

Louis has to let out a self-deprecating laugh at the notion of someone so talented and beautiful ending up with someone like him. “As much as I can appreciate her skill and dedication, I don’t think she’s for me. She’s currently dating another footballer, but she’s lacking something important.” He takes a deep breath. He needs to tell Stan. If anyone would understand it would be Stan. “I fancy someone more like the Niall bloke that plays for Arsenal.”

“Niall Horan? But he’s a man?” Stan says slowly. 

Louis’ heart is pounding in his head. He can’t believe he’s friends with such a dunce that he actually has to spell it out for him. Does Stan not understand how hard it is for him to do that? “Yes, I am aware of that fact, Stanley.”

“So you’re-”

“Yes.” Louis shuts his eyes tight and holds his breath. He can’t say it, he can’t let anyone else say such a dirty word either. 

Stan’s eyes widen as he takes in all of Louis’ answers. “Oh, Lou. Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you tell _me_? You know I would’ve loved you no matter what.”

“It’s not you that I worry about. Every day I stand in a locker room with naked men and I don’t… I can’t let them think that I have any sort of interest in any of them. Which I don’t, by the way. Not my type.” Louis shakes his head emphatically and looks to his friend. “It’s hard enough being a young footballer. Fans think I’ll choke or that one injury and I’m done. Can you imagine being a young _gay_ footballer? Fuck, I might as well end my career now.”

Louis’ hands are starting to shake. He sort of just wants this conversation to be over already. Stan frowns and looks at his friend in concern. “That’s not true. Many of the women at the games this past summer were out and they were embraced by the football community.”

“Because in this society, it’s more accepting to be a lesbian who loves sports than a gay man who loves sports.” Louis can practically hear the distaste for the stereotype dripping from his lips, but he knows why the women were accepted- because straight men love a bit of lesbianism in their lives. “Name one footballer who was out and proud while they played.”

“Well there was…” Stan thinks hard about the answer. “What about Thomas Hitzlsperger? Thomas Berling? Jonathan De Falco?”

Louis shakes his head, “They all came out after they retired. Robbie Rogers would be the closest you get to even being in the Premier League, but he only made it to Leeds United. Not quite Premier League status.”

“What about Justin Fashanu? He played for City, Newcastle, and West Ham. He came out in the middle of his career.” Stan says triumphantly.

“Yeah, but he committed suicide because a seventeen year old boy accused him of sexual assault. In his note he said the sex was consensual, and everyone got a bad taste for the gays in football after that. I’m not going to be the next Justin Fashanu.” Louis says adamantly. He sips at his pint while he tries to gather his thoughts. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but let’s face it. If I want a career I suck it up and date a few women until I’m too old to play and then I come out and enjoy the gay life in my thirties and forties.”

Stan looks ready to argue, but then the glare he receives from his friend kills any words he may have been about to say. “Look, maybe you just need to blow off some steam. Let’s head out to a club and find you a guy for the night. Have him sign a Nondisclosure Agreement so you know that he won’t say anything. You can’t just let this build up, Lou. One day it’s going to burst and things won’t be able to be controlled after that.”

“No. I can keep this under wraps. End of discussion.” Louis’ voice rings with an air of finality and he quickly changes the subject.

************

Sunday morning finds Louis on the couch in his mother’s living room watching all the past press conferences and listening to the commentators talk about who they think the hopefuls for the 2015-2016 season will be. He mutes the television anytime his own picture and voice are brought onto the screen so he hears nothing about himself personally- he doesn’t want their words to cloud his playing.

He’s ready to turn to the actual news when the Manchester City logo pops onto the screen as well as Liam Payne’s- the club’s newest forward- picture. He turns the volume up a bit louder.

_“... seemed to catch the young player in a very compromising position with another young male. Pellegrini, the club’s manager, merely shrugged his shoulders when asked for a comment. He also said,_ ‘the whole club knows about Liam’s sexual preference and accept him. Liam made it very clear that he wouldn’t sign to the team unless the entire squad was at least tolerant of his choices because he didn’t want to cause disharmony among the players. Since signing and practicing with the rest of the team, Liam has taken his fair share of good-fashioned ribbing and has in turned dished it right back. We at Manchester City don’t see Liam as a gay footballer; we see him as just a footballer. His sexuality will never be a factor when it comes to his talent.’ _Well said, Pellegrini.”_

_“Indeed. I think we all know how homophobia in football has been a topic of hot discussion these last few seasons, but it seems that this season might be one of change as the first openly gay football player takes the field. In other news, Harry Styles of Newcastle…”_

Louis quickly turns the television off as his mind spins around the fact that Liam Payne from Manchester City is now out and proud. He logs into his twitter app and quickly goes to look at what people are saying to his rival. Most are words of encouragement and thanks from young players around the world, but every now and then there seems to be a negative tweet hurling nasty insults towards the twenty year old.

He reads each negative comment as if it were directed at him, and the thought makes him sick. Louis knows he gives himself a hard time because of his sexual preference, but that doesn’t mean anyone else should. It doesn’t mean Liam deserves to be hated on by so many people that don’t even know him.

Biting his lip, Louis wonders if he should tweet the boy or stay silent. None of his teammates have said anything about it and the Manchester United twitter is silent as well. He’s worried that a tweet of support might be misconstrued, but he needs Liam to know that no matter the colour of the shirt they wear, they are brothers connected by the pitch and the ball. Before he can second guess himself, he tweets his support.

_@Louis_Tomlinson: An openly gay footballer? I approve! Much love and support to @Real_Liam_Payne of Man City. We’re brothers on the pitch no matter what._

He tosses his phone to the other side of the couch so he can’t delete the tweet. He can feel the disgust for himself rising up in his chest. He doesn’t care how much Liam Payne is being accepted, he won’t- _can’t_ \- allow himself to let anyone know. He doesn’t know what this will mean for Liam. He doesn’t know how the world will react. In a few months, Liam may be ostracized from the football community- no one knows.

Louis looks up at the clock and sees that it’s about half past eight in the morning. He knows that everyone will be asleep for at least another hour- maybe longer- and he knows that the football net he used when he was still in school is still outback (Fizzy did have to practice afterall). He sighs and picks himself up from the couch to change into clothes that were suitable for an emergency practice session.

************

Once he’s freshly showered and dressed, he greets his now awake family in a slightly chipper mood. “Morning all. You slept the half the day away. I managed to get a whole practice session in while you lot slept.”

“You already practiced? Lou! I wanted to get some football in with you. Now I’ll have to wait till god knows when you come home again.” Fizzy groans and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I have a game coming up soon and I was hoping to show off some wicked tricks you could have taught me.”

“I wouldn’t have practiced with you even if you were awake,” Louis says haughtily. “You’ve got a dodgy ankle right now. If you want my professional opinion, stay off it till it’s fully healed. Trying to overwork it when it’s not quite ready will only cause more damage. You can’t afford a torn ligament, or a shattered ankle bone. These next few years will be imperative to your growth as a player so you need to be in tip-top shape.”

Johannah smiles as she prepares a large brunch for her children. “Listen to your brother, Felicite. I’m sending you to the Doncaster Rover’s Girl’s Football Camp this summer and every summer after that because you want to play your best. If you get injured now, you can kiss those summer camps goodbye.”

The family carries on in only the way a Tomlinson reunion can- bickering and slapstick comedy- until Lottie suddenly asks the question Louis has been hoping to avoid.  
“Liam Payne is gay? No! I was going to have Louis introduce us. All the fit ones are gay!”

“You’re too young for him anyway. A fifteen year old should be going after boys in her classes, not twenty year old footballers.” Louis admonishes his sister trying to sweep the whole ‘openly gay’ part under the rug. “Besides, I don’t know him that well. I’ve never even met the lad. Just know that he’s supposedly my competition this year.”

Felicite, who likes to keep as up to date on her football as she can, is already googling about the news. “You tweeted him! Daily Mail already has an article up about it. Calling you a stand out player for the support. Oh! He tweeted you back as well!”

“Huh?” Louis grabs his phone and sure enough there was a twitter notification. “I hadn’t even noticed.” He unlocks his phone to read the response he honestly wasn’t expecting to receive.

_@Real_Liam_Payne: Thank you for all the kind words! Have to admit that @Louis_Tomlinson is quite the lad. I’ve been watching his career for years. #Starstruck_

Louis reads the tweet multiple times before favouriting it and following Liam. It couldn’t hurt to be friends, right?

************

It’s Tuesday before anyone really asks him about it. His teammates have all congratulated him on taking the first step towards helping to abolish homophobia in the sport, but when his manager and the club manager call him into the office after practice on Tuesday, he’s nearly bricking it.

Nevertheless, he’s trying to smile as he’s greeted and told to sit down. “I’m assuming this is about the tweet then?”

“Of course it’s about the tweet,” Edward Bennet- Louis’ manager- huffs as the question is asked. “Louis, we don’t control anything of your social media interaction, minus promotions and stuff like that, but you do need to consult myself and the team’s PR lead when you tweet stuff like that. Tweeting your support before the team had a chance to made it appear that the club as a whole weren’t supporting that type of behaviour.”

His manager’s choice of words make Louis’ mouth go dry. Even the implication that the club might not support him if he were to come out (which he is not going to do) is too much for him to handle. Louis feels the room becoming impossibly hotter, and only the club’s manager speaking up next prevents him from bolting out of there right that second.

Van Gaal clears his throat to try and grab the attention of the room. “With that said, we do support Mister Payne and his choices, but we would have liked to merely addressed it first. I do, however, commend you on your message. The board of directors for the Premier League are asking if they can use your quote about being brothers as the slogan for a new campaign to end homophobia in the sport.”

Louis blinks a few times trying to process what he’s just been told. “Oh, um, sure. I didn’t think it was all that great, but if they’d like to they can use it. Just happened to be the first thing that popped into my mind.”

“Perfect! Now that we’ve had our discussion, I think it’s time we addressed Louis’ public relations. I think we should…”

As his manager continues to talk, Louis zones out thinking about what he had just agreed to.

************

_@Louis_Tomlinson: One last night of freedom till the season starts. Who wants a quiet night of pizza and movies? Any takers?_

Louis watches as his mentions blow up. He’s always found it hilarious that he has two types of fans of twitter: the die-hard football fans and girls in their late teens and early twenties. He’s scrolled through about fifty offers for a blowjob in exchange for pizza when he sees that Liam Payne has replied to his tweet. Scrunching his nose in confusion, he reads the digital text.

_@Real_Liam_Payne: @Louis_Tomlinson I’m down, or McDonald’s and a friendly game of FIFA! Unlike your female followers though, I won’t be offering a blowjob. (:_

What? What does that even mean? Why is there a smiley face? Oh god. Was Liam flirting with him? Did he give the boy a false hope that he would find a relationship with Louis? Why was a blowjob even mentioned? Wait. If he called out his female followers, that means he was going through Louis’ mentions! Why would he possibly be interested in Louis’ mentions?

Instead of tweeting back, he decides to directly message the boy. It’s a lot more personal and a lot less likely to end up in a misconstruing of his words. His fingers hovered over the keyboard on his phone, unsure of what to really say. He didn’t want to offend the boy or even accidentally lead him on. Maybe a simple greeting would suffice? Why could he suddenly not think of what to type to a fellow footballer?

Deciding on a simple, _‘I have FIFA 2016 if you really are down,’_ Louis quickly exits the app and waits for a notification that Liam has responded.

In theory, he knows why he’s freaking out. If he’s seen with Liam in public- no matter what he’s tweeted- the media will twist it and say they’re dating or something. It’s happened before, on a much smaller scale, but Louis knows how people work. He remembers being asked if he liked to ‘take it up the arse’ merely because his best friend had been gay. He’s never understood the logic between the jump people always made, but it pissed him off more because he did like to take it up the arse- at least in theory, he’s still a virgin. 

The vibrating and loud ‘DING!’ from his phone shakes him from his thoughts. He sees that Liam has responded with a few thumbs up emojis and asked for Louis’ address and McDonald’s order.

Louis responds quickly and also makes sure that he gives Liam his number so that he doesn’t have to reply on Twitter anymore. Once it’s sent he starts to tidy up his flat a bit. He never really had company so the sports equipment lying around never really had a specific place in his home. He packs his bag for tomorrow- football boots, socks, uniform, shin pads, a pair of joggers, an after game shirt, and his newest pair of Adidas trainers- and puts it right outside his coat cupboard. He moves all his training gear into the spare cupboard at the end of the hall and quickly runs the vacuum as well. His kitchen is pretty clean, minus the few dishes he’d used that day for his multiple cups of tea and the quick snack he’d had once he had returned from practice.

He hears a knock at his door and realises it’s been thirty minutes since he told Liam his address and order. He curses as he spots his muddy training boots still in the hallway by the front door, but supposes Liam will understand- he’s a footballer too. He hurries to the door and yanks it open, smiling when he sees the Manchester City forward and about three bags of food. “Ace!”

Liam laughs loudly, his eyes crinkling up as he smiles. “Didn’t know how hungry you were, but I’m famished think I bought one of every burger and then probably about five things of fries.” He steps inside once Louis moves out of his way.

“Yeah,” Louis says smiling as well- Liam’s grin was extremely infectious- and leading the way towards his kitchen. “Just set it down here and take your coat off. I won’t let you on my sofa with that shit on your shoulders.”

Liam can only laugh again as he unzips the blue training jacket that he’s taken to wearing all the time. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. You know that if the tables had been turned, you probably would have worn your training jacket over.” He drapes it on the back of a kitchen chair and starts to unpack all the food.

“I most certainly would not of,” Louis says with an air of mock indignation. He won’t mention the fact that he rarely took off his training jacket the whole first year he was on the team. He realises that in less than twenty-four hours, they would be one week into the season. “Are you ready for tomorrow? I’m still surprised Pellegrini is starting you. You’ve not even been tested yet.”

“Mate, I’m bricking it. We play West Bromwich tomorrow and they were… Well they were decent last year. Our roster isn’t too different, but with Aguero out with an injury till at least mid-October I’ve got to step up. I don’t think anyone is super happy about it, but I’ve just gotta play my best and prove that I’m worth the time and effort.” Liam shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching down a bit in nervousness.

“Well,” Louis says hoping to distract the younger lad, “one way to prove you’re ready is to beat me at FIFA. Good luck with that; Rooney can’t even score against me.” He intentionally leaves out the fact that Rooney barely knew how to use the controls.

************

Two hours later and the two of them are laughing hysterically at some ridiculous movie that Louis had picked out. FIFA had went well- Louis winning two of the three games they played- and now they were both starting to feel the effects of long practices that morning and all of the greasy unhealthy food that had been consumed in a small timeframe.

Louis yawns as the credits start rolling. “I have to be at the stadium around noon tomorrow. They want to do a one last preseason interview with the starters.”

“I have a meeting with my manager. Apparently, the premier league wants to start an anti-homophobia campaign and I’m going to be the poster boy. Heard that they were going to ask you to help lead the cause too.” Liam says as he stands up stretching.

“They wanted to use my words from the tweet I sent you, but if they want me to be in anything, they haven’t asked. I’ll probably hear about it on Monday. I’ve told my manager not to bother me with stuff on game days. I need to stay focused. We have Tottenham tomorrow and they were right behind us at the end of last season.” Louis heads back into the kitchen with Liam following him. He packs up the leftover food and hands it over to his guest, “you bought it, you get to keep it.”

Liam rolls his eyes, but takes the grease covered bag with a grin. “Thanks for having me, mate. Didn’t really want to sit at home bored. Plus, I would have just kept thinking about tomorrow and probably would have psyched myself out.” He fiddles with his phone for a moment.

“You’ll do great. I’ve watched your tapes remember? You’re brilliant.”

“It’s not really the game aspect of tomorrow I’m worried about. What if I step out there and the fans… Well, what if they boo me because of what happened last weekend?”

“Then they’re pricks and they need to get over themselves,” Louis says venomously. “They need to understand that just because you like guys doesn’t mean you can’t be good at football or that you have to be a walking stereotype. There’s a lot of messed up shit in this world, and homophobic assholes are at the top of the list.”

Liam blinks a few times trying to take in the intensity of Louis’ declaration. “Are you- I mean, you seem to have strong opinions on the subject. You’re not…” he can’t quite think of a way to word it without being blunt or insensitive, “gay, are you?”

Louis freezes at the question. He _is_ gay, bent as a nine bob note actually, but no one knows and no one needs to know- especially not Liam. “No. No, I‘m not. My best mate back in Donny is though. I watched how he was treated in secondary school and I hated it. I got a bit of the name calling for sticking up for him and being his friend, but I never had it as bad as he did. I just… I think back to the awful time he and I had in secondary school and I wonder if people like Gerrard and Henry and Shearer had pushed more and tried to bring about a change if life would have been any different, but then I know that our lives would be drastically different and I probably would never have made it to the premier league.”

“I didn’t…” Liam can feel the blush spread across his face. “I didn’t mean to accuse or anything. You just seemed so passionate.”

“You didn’t offend or anything. It’s just the way of life and the town I grew up in.” Louis sighs heavily and scratches at the back of his neck. He smiles softly though, “I do hope they ask us to do the campaign together. It’ll be nice to get to work with you on something instead of constantly bickering in the media over the fans’ rivalry.”

“In fact,” he pulls his own phone from his pocket and opens the camera app almost immediately. “Let’s get a picture together. I’ll put it up on Instagram and Twitter. We can do a little campaigning early.”

Liam smiles brightly and leans in so that they’re both in the frame before Louis pushes the button and the memory is on his phone. “You know, next time you want a picture with me Louis, all you have to do is ask.”

“Oh ho ho! Someone is getting a little too egotistical over there. If you guys win tomorrow, it’ll be because your head was so swelled with praise that you blocked the whole net with your massive ego.” The older male chuckles as he leads the way towards the door. “Careful, Leemo,” he teases using the name Liam had inserted on his Xbox One profile, “you might not be able to make it out of my door.”

“Goodnight, Tommo,” Liam teases back with Louis’ own profile name.

Once Liam is gone and Louis has watched him pull away from his house, the hatred and self-guilt comes flooding back to Louis. He can’t believe Liam had asked if he was gay. That meant there was reason to question his heterosexual facade. He would just have to be more diligent in his actions from now on.

************

The Red Devils win their first game of the season against Tottenham. It was an own goal from Kyle Walker, but Rooney had almost been there to score it anyway. Either way, it was three points on the table. By the end of action on Monday, Manchester United sat in third place.

Manchester City was in first.

************

The following week is hectic for both athletes and they stick to mainly tweeting and texting each other. It’s funny that fans are starting to comment and notice the camaraderie between the two of them- some don’t think it’s all that great, but most are loving it.

They don’t actually see each other until Thursday evening. They were scheduled to take photos for the anti-homophobia campaign that evening and both seemed tired, but laughed through it anyway. They’re sitting down in makeup eating when their uniforms are brought to them.

“What the the hell is that?” Louis exclaims when he sees the highly offensive eyesore they expect him to wear. “Why aren’t we just wearing our club colours? These are downright ghastly.”

Liam nods his approval, eyeing the material. “Not that I don’t get what you guys are trying to do, but do they have to be rainbow shirts? The whole point is to treat gay players normally and- not make them blend in- but to erase their sexuality on the field. This just… This is a slap in the face.”

Louis bends down and rummages through his training bag before pulling out his red shirt. “Why can’t Liam wear this and I wear Liam’s? Sort of like a solidarity thing or even a ‘which of us is gay’ type thing? I don’t understand the garish shirts at all.” He looks to Liam a bit desperately. “Guess we’ll be directing this shoot. Why don’t we just run the campaign ourselves?”

“This is what the board of directors want you two to wear in the pictures. I’m not really sure why, I just do as I’m told.” The photographer shrugs and looks between the two nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Liam says trying to keep the peace, “we’ll just wear our own shirts and when they ask, we’ll take the fall for it.”

Louis slips on Liam’s light blue Manchester City shirt and squirms a bit as it hangs off his frame slightly. “You’re a bit bigger than me. My shirt might not actually fit you. I wear a small after all and this is a medium.”

Liam just laughs. “They measured me a medium because the small was too tight around my biceps and too tight at my abs. You’re all compact muscle, but mine like to be pronounced. Don’t worry, I won’t rip it or anything.”

Once in each other’s shirts and their hair was fixed, they made their way over to the white backdrop. The shoot went well with minimal horse play. There were a few photos that were bordering on the ridiculous- Louis sitting on Liam’s shoulders and Louis trying to push Liam over- but they were all great.

“One more, boys. This one’s a bit more serious. We had this made up,” the director brings over a sign and asks them to hold it up. “This one is going to be the main campaign promotional picture so try to be professional.”

The two boys smile as they each hold an end of the white sign. On the deep blue of the premier league logo, the phrase Louis had tweeted out had been written: ‘We’re brothers on the pitch no matter what.’

“That’s a wrap.”

************

Week two of the English Premier League season saw Manchester United beat Aston Villa at Villa Park. Louis was still ecstatic his team had won both games, but he was extremely frustrated that he was yet to score a goal or really make a huge impact on any game. He watched as his team won their week two match and dropped to fourth place on the table.

Manchester City continued their winning streak as well, holding onto first place. Liam scored his first premier league goal in the thirty-first minutes against Chelsea. He was now the favourite around the league.

************

_Harder, Louis, harder. You’re weak. You can run another lap. For every time you’ve stared at Liam for too long, you need to do a lap. No one wants a teammate that stares at other men. Disgusting, worthless, trash…_

Louis pushes himself into another lap as he finishes his thirtieth run around the pitch. His breathing is starting to get a bit harder- he’s panting heavily and his legs feel like jelly. Even as he runs, even as he berates himself for thinking of Liam in that light blue jersey that stretches just the right amount around his chest and biceps to show his strength but not enough to be uncomfortable, he can’t help but think about the text message waiting for him in the locker room on his phone.

It had been innocent texting- _‘How are you?’ ‘Got training.’ ‘Let’s hang out again.’_ \- simple, easy conversation. Though, Liam had asked him if Fridays were becoming date night for them. Obviously in jest, but if Liam could see it who else could see it?

Did only Liam see it? Was he slipping up? Did his teammates see it? Did the media? Did everyone hate him for it? Was he not being careful enough?

He blames Liam for all of this. If Liam had just stayed in the closet then Louis wouldn’t be so torn up about this. He can’t count the number of photos from that stupid photoshoot he’s signed. He hates it. He can’t stand the sight of them. He can’t stand the churning feeling in his stomach every time a young kid shoves the photo in his face. He can’t help but absolutely brick it every time, wonder if any of them have figured out that he’s as gay as Liam is, and that they’re probably holding the gayest photo ever taken. He looks so happy and supportive- and he is, supportive that is- but why does Liam get to have this spotlight and not get ridiculed?

He’s always been shoved around for being more feminine, more curvy, more stereotypically gay and he’s still sticking by the statement that he’s straight. Why does Liam get to be a completely different case in general? Because he’s extremely (physically) fit? Because he doesn’t look like a gay man, so maybe if they think about it hard enough, they can pretend he’s just your average straight man instead? Everyone’s okay with him being gay. Everyone’s okay with being in a locker room with him. Everyone-

“Louis!”

He looks up, and the headrush he experiences from the sudden stop is nauseating. Louis sways for a moment as he tries to gather his bearings and sees the club manager frowning at him.

“Training ended over thirty minutes ago. What are you still doing here?” Van Gaal checks his watch again and frowns. “You’ve got to be back here in nine hours. Go home and get some rest. We play Newcastle tomorrow and we need to have our wits about us. They’re hungry for a win.”

“Right. I was just taking a few extra laps and must have lost track of time and how many I did. Tend to get caught up in my thoughts is all. Won’t happen again.” Louis smiles and tries to play his punishment off as best he can. “Besides, I’m almost late. Going to hang out with Liam tonight. Would have hated to leave him hanging around waiting for me.”

With a nod to each other, they head their separate ways. Louis makes it back to the locker room and checks his phone. The text is still sitting there, mocking him waiting to be responded to. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth before quickly typing out a reply and hitting send. He tosses the device back into his locker as quickly as he can before he second guesses himself.

He grabs his change of clothes and his towel before heading back towards the showers to scrub the smell of sweat and grass from his body.

If he had waited but a moment longer, Liam’s reply would have flashed across the screen, _‘It’s a date then. ;)’_

************

It most certainly was not a date. It was just two friends who happened to be male going out and getting a bite to eat at a slightly higher priced restaurant. That’s it. It doesn’t matter that they ordered a bottle of wine and sat there discussing the League and different things that were happening around it.

“You know, it’s refreshing to talk to someone outside the City roster about everything. They just shrug and say it’s none of their business. They are following a few players, you included, to maybe talk them into coming over to the blue side of life.” Liam spears a chip and dunks it in vinegar before popping it into his mouth. “Do you think you could ever put on our jersey and play for us?”

Louis chuckles into his wine glass at the mere thought. “Nope. I’m a Red through and through. And even if I left, I certainly wouldn’t go to City. Maybe Queen’s Park Rangers if they make their way back up to the Premier League. I loved playing against them and watching them play. They had so much passion, but the old dogs didn’t want the new kids to play I guess. This season though- Bournemouth, Watford, and Norwich are really proving they deserve this. With the way this season is going, I wouldn’t be surprised if we said goodbye to some really good teams.”

Liam hums in agreement and looks to the front window when a flash of light catches his eye. He can see the media pressed against the glass and their cameras pressed even closer. He sighs, “don’t they ever go away? The other week was meant to be a lads night with some friends back home and some prat went and sold pictures of me and some guy and now they follow me everywhere. They want to know who I’m dating or if I’m interested in anyone. Since when did players personal lives become more important than the actual game?”

“When you were outed,” the older male says, as straight faced as possible. His cheery tone is suddenly gone and even he can hear the bitterness in his voice. He’s not jealous that Liam gets to be himself, not at all. “No one ever gives a damn until you’re different than the mould. You’re challenging every stereotype out there, Payno, and the public needs to find something to pin on you so you can fill their gay expectations.”

“You sound…” Liam trails off as he can’t quite find the word to describe the tone of voice.

“Bitter? Cynical? Realistic? Come on, Liam, you have to know that the entire English nation isn’t as accepting as your team. They’re just looking for a reason to chew you up and spit you back out. You’re at the top right now- you’re looking at Rookie of the Year and everyone in Manchester loves you- but you’re so high up that the fall will kill you. Just remember that. We can’t all be David Beckham; sometimes there’s a Joshua Fashanu.”

Liam frowns and studies the man across from him. “Louis… Are you okay? You seem really upset today and I don’t… I don’t want to think I’m losing another friend because of my sexuality.”

Louis sighs and rubs at the creases he can feel in his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. Just a long day of training and meetings.”

“Are you sure? Did I upset you with the text? I didn’t mean to like offend you or make you think I’m interested. I mean, you’re fit, but I know you said you’re straight- and I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I was just joking around. And then when you replied I thought you were joking too, but you seem-”

“Liam,” the older player interrupts and looks at the other. He sees so much talent and potential in Liam and it reminds him of himself. He remembers his rookie year and the pressure to make something happen. “I promise it’s not you. I’m just frustrated with myself. I haven’t scored a goal all season and we’re doing okay in the table. I just thought I’d have a bigger impact this season.”

“We’re only getting ready for week three. There’s still plenty of play to go; don’t be so hard on yourself,” Liam says with a frown. He checks his watch and sighs heavily when he sees that it’s nearly midnight. “Come on. We need to get you home. You’ve got a game in about twelve hours.”

Louis is worried he’s hurt the boy’s feelings with his own insecurities shining through. _Way to go, Tomlinson. You can’t even be a friend correctly. What the hell is wrong with you?_ “Liam, I didn’t mean… You’re not angry are you?”

“With you? Never, Tommo.”

************

Match week three saw the Red Devils not able to score a single goal against Newcastle and luckily kept their fourth place standing. Louis watched as his teammates left the field slightly disappointed in themselves. He needed to be better, practice harder, train longer.

Manchester City again won their game and continued to lead the table with points. Liam had not scored, but had been influential in the game. He had taken many shots on goal and kept the spirit of his team high.

************

_‘Wanna come over to the Etihad Campus? Want to get a good long training in, but I don’t want to go at it alone.’_

The text throws Louis off guard Monday morning. Liam had been texting him on and off about training together, but it seems like Louis’ day of reckoning had come. He had been dreading this day because he didn’t want to try and explain his rigorous training plan to Liam and why he felt the need to train so hard. He knows Liam is going to tell him he’s great (that’s the kind of person Liam is) and that he truly doesn’t need to train that hard, but Louis can’t rationalise it that easily.

Training meant pain, pain meant punishment, punishment meant he was correcting his flaws.

It’s silly to think that maybe he could come up with an excuse because the next thing he knows, he’s being tweeted at by none other than Liam Payne himself. He rolls his eyes and finds himself smiling fondly down at his phone.

_‘@Real_Liam_Payne: I think @Louis_Tomlinson should get off his arse and come train with me. Spam him with notifications till he texts me back!’_

Rolling his eyes, Louis watches as his mentions get flooded. He’s actually a little surprised how quickly people are listening to Liam. It’s mostly girls probably just wanting to get notice or up and coming players looking for a way into the league. Either way, it had Louis closing Twitter and pulling up his text messages.

_'Damn, Payno! Your control over the populace is astounding. We can meet at the campus in about an hour and a half.'_ Louis sends the response and quickly hurries to get himself washed and ready for a day of Liam Payne running and chasing a ball around.

His shower takes a lot longer than he anticipated. The entire time is spent staring at his body and thoughts about how he needs to control himself swirling through his mind. He knows how Liam looks in his football kit- he’s seen it enough on Sky Sports to have the image committed to memory- but he’s never seen him running or sweating in the uniform and he’s worried his body is going to betray him. He takes a few deep breathes and talks himself out of cancelling on his friend.

Once he’s deemed himself calm and collected, he steps out and goes about getting himself ready for the day. In no time, he’s got a pair of sweats and a pull over on and he’s slipping his feet into a pair of Vans. His practice bag is in the hallway by the front door and he grabs it in his haste to exit his flat.

He has to text Liam for the address and what to do to get into the complex once he’s there. It’s weird to think about how long he’s lived in Manchester and he doesn’t actually know where the City training grounds are. He knows they’re new- City and United used to train in the same building- but that’s about all he’s knows. The drive to the training grounds is short and Louis bops along to the music that plays throughout his car.

He has barely parked his car and gotten out when he sees Liam hurrying over to his side. “I’m so glad you made it! I was beginning to think you’d never come over to this side of Manchester.” Liam pulls the short haired boy into a tight hug. “So the whole team decided to use today as a practice day so we won’t have the pitch to ourselves; hope that’s okay. I did ask them to clear out a spot in the locker room for you. They said the empty locker down a bit from mine is yours for the day.”

Louis smiles brightly at the news that they wouldn’t be alone. “Nah, mate. That’s great. Wouldn’t want to humiliate you without anyone around to see it.” He grabs his bag from the back seat and tosses it over his shoulder as the two make their way towards the locker room. 

“Humiliate me? Oi, I don’t think you understand, Tommo, this is my turf. Be ready to get shown up, mate.” Liam laughs as they enter the lift to take them to the floor they need to be on. He swipes his prox card against the reader built into the wall of the lift and smiles softly at the positive sounding beep before pressing the level one button. “Did you see the Bournemouth game on Saturday? Can’t believe the new teams are doing so well this season.”

“Yeah,” Louis says as he watches them descend from the car park into the actual training facility. “I’ll be a bit surprised if all of them end up relegated. One or two maybe, but all three? I think they may actually have a chance of staying in the league this season. What about Chelsea though? They only have four points!”

They continue to talk about the table and different teams’ chances as they make their way out of the lift and down the hallway towards the locker room. Liam pushes the door open and all of the chatter inside the blue tinted room comes to a halt as every eye turns towards the two men in the doorway.

Louis suddenly feels extremely self conscious as the players he’s played against, scored against, and lost to stare him down. “Uh, Liam? They do know I’m here as a friend, yeah? I’m not here as like a double agent or anything.”

“Oh, we know,” Hart, the goalkeeper, says as he straps on his shin guards. “Doesn’t make it any less unsettling seeing a Devil walk into your sanctuary. Hope you didn’t bring a Man United shirt to play in.”

“Of course not, mate. Thought that might be a bit in bad taste. Brought my old Doncaster Rovers shirt. You’ll never see them in the Premier League, as much as it pains me to say it.” Louis follows Liam down the rows of lockers to the one where he would be keeping his bag. “Hope that’s alright. It was either that, Man United, or and old Tottenham kit that my dad bought me before the deal with them went south.”

The whole team is laughing then and shaking their heads. “Just be on the pitch in ten minutes. We’ll see how great the Manchester United midfielder is without his precious Rooney to back him up.”

The players empty out and leave the two friends alone to change. Liam shifts nervously from foot to foot, glancing over at the bathroom across the way. “If you’re uncomfortable with me changing in front of you, I can head off and change over there.”

“It’s just a dick, Liam. I have one too, unless you’ve forgotten that fact about me.” Louis smiles brightly. He’s not going to make Liam change in the bathroom at his own facility, even if he is a bit uncomfortable with everything being on display.

Liam smiles just as brightly back at him. “Alright then. Just don’t get jealous when you see what I’m packing.” With that, he shoves his joggers down.

************

“I’ll give you this, Tomlinson, you sure do know how to keep a player on their toes.” 

Louis smiles and ducks his head at the praise. “Not really. I just take whatever opportunity I’m given. Always have to be honest. Growing up with four younger sisters makes you realise you have to take whatever time you’ve been given and use it to the best of your advantage.” He looks up as a heavy arm suddenly weighs down around his shoulders.

“He means it,” Liam says in a quiet, almost fond sounding, voice. “Toure almost never gives out compliments. Take it for what it’s worth.” His mouth finds its way to Louis’ ear and the bright smiles on both of their faces catch the team off guard.

It’s Sterling who comments on their behaviour. “So, Liam, is Louis your boyfriend then? I mean, you’re always hanging out and everything and you looked quite coupley in the tabloids the other day. I assume dating and courting and that shit is the same as if you were into birds, yeah?”

Louis can feel himself tense up at the words. It’s a simple question- one he can honestly see being asked due to the overwhelming physical contact and the date-like atmosphere of their dinner on Friday. The words are thrown like a knife, though, and Louis can feel the cold sweat break out on his forehead as he drains of colour.

“So what if we are?” Liam questions with a laugh. It’s all a bit of banter for the City players- they’ve been teasing Liam for weeks about his apparent crush on the United player- and they think nothing of it. “Just means I’m getting more than you, mate.”

_They know. You came to practice and slipped up. They know, Louis. They’ll tell everyone. The whole world is going to know that you’re a disgusting, low life faggot. You just couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, could you? You gave too much away and now even Liam is laughing at you. Disgusting, worthless, miserable-_

“Louis!”

Liam’s voice is what pulls Louis back from his thoughts. He looks up to see the younger man staring at him in concern. “What?”

“You got really pale and sort of froze. Was scared you were going to fall over.” Liam’s voice is suddenly a lot closer and quieter. The concern is laced in his tone and it makes Louis’ stomach toss and turn as he thinks about the thoughts Liam’s teammates are having about the two of them.

“I… I’m fine. I just… I have to go.” He quickly heads to the locker he was given, to grab his stuff, and then backtracks out of the locker room, stumbling over a bench and his own feet before making it out of the room and towards the flight of stairs he had seen earlier.

_Disgusting, worthless, miserable; disgusting, worthless, miserable; disgusting, worthless, miserable._

************

Fourteen calls and forty seven texts from Liam. That’s what greets Louis come Tuesday morning as he turns his phone back on. He’s also got a few missed calls from his publicity agent which worries him a little, but he figures it’s too late to stop any story that’s already been written about his hasty exit from the training camp yesterday.

He needs a day away from everything, but he’s worried about leaving his house. He doesn’t want the paps to get a shot of him or speculate about anything else in his life. He doesn’t have a team practice till Thursday and he can feel the pull to be home with his mother and sisters stronger than ever. It’s just there, pooling in the pit of his stomach till it physically hurts to even think about Doncaster.

He’s calling his mom before he even knows he’s doing it. It rings a few times before her warm voice is filling his ears. “Hey, mom.”

_“Louis? What’s wrong? I saw you on the news earlier. Talk to me, baby.”_

“I just- Um, I had a freak out and ran from a friend. I actually want to come home for a few days. Is that okay? I’m going to have my publicist comment that it was a family emergency, but I just want to make sure that’s okay with you.” He’s quiet as he talks to his mother. He feels ready to burst into tears and the stress is eating him away and he can’t figure out why he’s freaking out so badly.

_“Of course. Louis, are you going to be okay to drive or should I come and get you? Maybe you should catch a train…”_

Louis smiles softly, but shakes his head even though his mother can’t see him. “I’ll be fine, mom. I’ll text you before I leave. I just really need to get away from Manchester for a bit.” They talk for a few more minutes, before saying their goodbyes.

Checking the time, Louis sees that it’s nearing eight in the morning. He sighs heavily and calls his publicist back knowing that he has to take care of that debacle first. After apologising profusely for the early call, he spins the lie about Felicite hurting herself in a footie match and his mother calling him in hysterics. He lets the man know he’ll be in Doncaster until Thursday and apologises a few more times.

Once that’s taken care of, he heads to the shower to get ready for the day and his trip.

************

“Before anything else, I need to tell you something extremely important and I don’t want you to say anything sympathetic or sappy. I just need you to listen.” Louis quickly glances at his mother knowing that she will interrupt him if he doesn’t set the ground rules.

They’re tucked away in the sunroom- even though it was usually overcast and rainy, his mother insisted on having a sunroom and using it as a glorified parlor- and Louis knows his sisters have been told to give them their privacy, but he’s still worried they’re lurking in the hall outside the doorway. He stirs his tea nervously and almost wishes he had put a little liquid courage in it as well.

Johannah merely frowns, “you know I will say whatever is on mind.”

“Mum, please,” Louis’ pleas must reach her because she sighs and nods. “I’ve been… Well you see, um, I’m sort of… My best friend is Stan, right? And we’re, uh…” His tongue doesn’t want to cooperate with him and his brain is blanking on how exactly to tell his mother just what is bothering him. He figures that there really is no delicate way to put the words to his mother. He guesses doing it quick like ripping off a plaster would be best. “Mum, I’m gay.”

The room is silent for a bit. Louis nervously sips at his tea hoping for his mom to say something- _anything_ , even the sympathetic shit he told her not to say.

“Well, it’s not exactly what I was expecting, but it’s certainly better than what I was expecting to come out of your mouth,” Johannah says a bit breathlessly. “I’m sitting here thinking you’re going to tell me I’m going to be a grandmother! This is… You know I love you no matter what and all that jazz. One question though?”

Louis quirks an eyebrow in a sign to continue. He knew his mother wouldn’t care, but he’s still mentally freaking out and waiting for the yelling and screaming and disappointment.

Johannah sips her tea slowly trying to think of how to word this. “How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything then?” 

“Because…” He doesn’t want to tell his mum the truth. How does someone tell their mum that they hate themselves for something that they can’t control? The answer: they don’t. “I’ve known for a while- probably about as long as Stan has known. I just wasn’t ready to be out. I’m not… I‘m not telling everyone; in fact telling you was hard enough, but Stan knows and it’s sort of why I freaked out and left the training grounds yesterday. The guys there, they’re super nice about everything, but they were joking around with Liam about me being his boyfriend and I… None of them know and I wasn’t ready to hear that. Guess I just freaked out and ran because I thought that they knew.”

“Have you told Liam?”

Louis frowns and looks up to his mother in confusion. “No. I barely know him! Why would I tell him when I couldn’t even tell my own mother?”

“Fair enough,” Johannah says as she sips at her tea. “Have you talked to him since you bolted? He might be thinking it was his fault.”

“Why would he think that? He’s been nothing but amazing and perfect since we started hanging out. He’s funny and witty and can throw out jokes like the best of them.” Louis stops short when he sees his mother’s gaze settled on him in a very sympathetic way. “What?”

Johannah shakes her head. “Nothing, nothing. I just have a feeling that I’ll be meeting Liam before the season is over. He sounds wonderful, love, but you bolted after someone insinuated that you were dating him. He might be thinking that you would rather have your straight image protected then be friends with him. Just think it over and talk to him about it.”

They lapse into a silence after that, drinking their tea and each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Louis’ are centred mainly around warm brown eyes and a ridiculous pout, but the weight in his stomach grows the longer he thinks about them.

A knocking on the door breaks their quiet and it’s Fizzy, wanting to practice out in the back with Louis. He agrees quickly and downs the rest of his tea so he can go get ready. His mother’s soft touch on his wrist stops him from exiting immediately.

“You know that this- what you’ve told me- changes nothing, right? You’re still my son and I still love you, no matter what.”

He smiles and nods, bending down to kiss at his forehead softly. “I know. I knew you’d say that. It’s just a personal fear and that’s why I didn’t say anything for so long. I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, son.”

************

Thursday’s practice is grueling.

Louis is still emotionally all over the place and he’s nowhere near his normal performance. There’s a ton of yelling from Van Gaal and many times he found himself flat on his back after tripping up over nothing. His teammates are trying to comfort him since they think he’s still worried about his sister, but every assurance that she would be okay makes him feel physically sick.

Practice is finally called to an end and he sits himself down in the middle of the field and buries his face in his knees. He can feel the hands and pats on his back from his friends as they leave towards the locker room. He waits about five minutes after the last touch before looking up and seeing the club manager standing maybe a metre away from him.

“I should bench you for the way you played today,” Van Gaal says a bit of leftover frustration in his voice. “We need you on Sunday though. Whatever is bothering you, swallow it down and be back here tomorrow ready to go. Show me you deserve to play on Sunday.”

Louis watches him walk away and sighs heavily, his shoulders sagged. He can’t believe he let his feelings about Liam affect his play. He needs to buckle down, focus, and shove all thoughts of those beautiful brown eyes from his mind. He won’t even get on Twitter until after the game on Sunday. He needs to focus all he can.

He stands and looks over towards the tunnel that leads to the locker room. He closes his eyes and turns his back to the exit. Another three hours of practice won’t kill him. 

************

It’s his phone that wakes him up early Saturday morning.

He looks at his clock and groans when the bright blue numbers blaze the time into his eyes- 5:26. He doesn’t have a game today so he knows that it isn’t anyone from the club calling him. Worried that it could be a family emergency, he answers the phone without looking at the caller ID. “What’s wrong, mum?”

There’s a slight hesitation before a sigh comes through the receiver. _“It’s not your mum, Lou. It’s me, uh, Liam.”_

Louis can practically feel his heart plummet to the ground. He didn’t want to have this talk until after gameday. “Why are you calling me this early? Do you know what time it is? You should be asleep and resting for your match today.”

_“That’s why I’m calling. I, uh, I know you’se don’t play till tomorrow, but my family can’t make it to the game today so I have some extra seats available. Thought maybe you would like to come and see a game. Bring a sister or two.”_

He should say no. He should stay away until Monday. He needs to keep his thoughts straight. “I’ll ring my sisters. See if they’re up for coming over for a game. Fizzy will most likely want to come and watch. We’ll be in our England gear though.”

_“Yeah, yeah. Just… Text me and let me know, yeah?”_

“Right. I’ll let you know.”

************

Louis is there and watches as Manchester City defeat Watford at home. He cheers loudly when Sterling and Fernandinho score towards the start of the second half and he smiles and waves politely as the camera pans to him in the box seats that Liam and blessed him, Fizzy, and Lottie with. There’s a few boos, but most of the crowd seems at least indifferent to him being in attendance.

After the game, he mills about wanting to let most of the fans get out of the stadium before the girls and him exit. A text from Liam asking to grab dinner with them makes them lag behind even more. It’s a full hour after the game has finished before they see Liam making his way out of the locker room and through the front lobby.

Fizzy is the one who reacts like a fangirl. “Oh my god. I thought you were just having us on. He really is grabbing food with us.” She smiles brightly and straightens herself out to try and look as tough as she can with her jersey and hair pulled up into a ponytail. She’s got her wristbands pulled up to her elbows- something that Louis has told her time and again doesn’t make her look cooler or more sporty- and her new Adidas trainers shining and laced up to perfection. Her ankle is still in a compression wrap, but she makes it look a bit effortless even though she’s still limping slightly.

Liam looks tired, but still grins at the three of them. “You must be Felicite and Charlotte. Louis has pictures of you guys around his flat. I’m Liam.” He holds his hand out for them to shake.

“It’s Lottie, actually. Only my mum calls me Charlotte and even then that’s only when I’m in trouble.” She shakes his hand and softly smiles, trying to appear older and much more put together than she truly is.

“And I’m Fizzy. Felicite is way too formal and I hate it. You have to show me how to dribble the ball that efficiently! Louis just gets too impatient and steals the ball to score himself.” She bypasses his hand and goes in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly.

Louis rolls his eyes and smiles at his friend. “She’s a bit of a handful. Scared my mum on Monday with her daredevil antics. Idiot decided to try and play on a still bum ankle and then took a tackle too hard.” He ruffles his sister’s hair- much to her hatred. “Now, where to? I’m starved and I need to eat slightly healthy in preparation for tomorrow’s game so pick somewhere with huge salads.”

“Salad for you and a nice juicy, greasy burger for me. I don’t think I could eat a salad after that game. Watford was tough. I don’t know what’s going on with these new teams, but they really are something else.” Liam says as he slings an arm around Felicite’s shoulders and starts to lead them towards the car park.

“We have Swansea tomorrow. They’re tough on a normal day, but practices this week were really… Challenging.” That’s all Louis really wants to say on the subject- at least to Liam. “If we were at home, I’d extend an invitation, but unfortunately we’ll be in Wales.”

The two continue to talk and Lottie watches the two the whole way to the car and then while they’re sitting down to eat. She keeps giving Louis weird glances all night when he laughs a bit too loud at one of Liam’s lame jokes or when he smiles at the younger male during a silence that should be uncomfortable but isn’t. She doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling her brother isn’t telling her everything.

************

The end of match week four brings a bittersweet game for Louis. It’s his best game of the season so far and he manages to snag a goal in the forty eighth minute, but Swansea still take the win. It’s the first loss of the season, but Van Gaal tells the Yorkshire native that he proved that he still deserved his spot.

The next few weeks fly by for both of them. They hang out less and less as the two teams come closer and closer to the Manchester derby. Each of them are superb in their own right. Louis manages to score another two goals in the following three games; Liam remains scoreless until match week eight where he scores five of the six goals for Manchester City.

Everything’s going perfect, until it isn’t.

************

The week between Manchester United playing Arsenal and Everton is when everything starts to go down hill. The papers have always been hinting at a growing friendship between the two players, but now they’ve decided to switch their tactics a bit. The front page headline come the fifth of October was; _Footballers Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne Spotted Getting Cozy at a Manchester Cafe_. The accompanying picture a blurry snapshot of Louis resting his head on Liam’s shoulder.

Louis stares at the headline and picture for a lot longer than he should. He also ignores at least twenty calls from his public relations manager and at least seventeen texts from his mother. The thing is that Louis can’t deny this. He did try and get a little bit of comfort from Liam after United lost their game against Arsenal- he can’t even lie about that.

The fact that the newspaper is picking up on his habits, though, is quite nauseating. They point out that he’s never been seen with a girl or even mentioned a girlfriend or anything of the sort. It’s disconcerting that they’re assuming his sexuality based on a picture and the fact that his best friend in the league is gay.

He can feel the bile rising up in his throat and he makes a mad dash for the bathroom, throwing up everything in his stomach, before spending another fifteen minutes just sitting on the bathroom floor, dry heaving and crying. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to confront this. All he knows is football and avoidance.

He looks at his phone and feels his stomach turning as another call from his public relations manager comes across his phone. He declines the call and quickly turns the device off. He gets up and brushes his teeth before deciding on what to do.

A quick workout wouldn’t hurt.

************

Match week nine was possibly the toughest week of either man’s career.

Louis was met with a mix of boos and cheers and many harsh words were thrown around by the players of Everton. He knows some of the lads from that team personally and when he was snubbed even by them, he knew this whole thing was bigger than what he imagined it would be. Luckily, United won- three nil- and the boys in red acted no different to Louis on or off the field.

The eighty seventh minute is when everything explodes. Louis’ going in for a chance to score and add his name to the goal list when Seamus Coleman- an Everton defender- comes in for a sliding tackle with his spikes up. At first, Louis thought it was a fair challenge, but when he tries to get up after the brutal hit he finds it hard to do so. Thinking the wind has just been knocked out of him, he waves the team physician over and has him give him a quick once over.

“I think I’m fine,” the player says as he gratefully takes the water bottle that’s handed to him. “My right leg feels a bit weird- like pins and needles feeling- but I’m sure it’s just a bruise.” He wipes his face down with his jersey as the doctor crouches to look at his leg.

The older man frowns. “It’s swelling a bit. I’m thinking it’s something a bit more serious. Let’s get you off the field and get a better look at it.” He’s already got Louis by one hand as he waves his assistant over to help him get the twenty-one year old up.

“There’s two minutes left plus a bit of stoppage. Don’t take me out now!” He hates the sound of fear in his own voice and he’s sure his face conveys the same emotion because the doctor hesitates. “Just help me up.”

By the time Louis is back on his feet, Coleman had been issued a red card and was probably already in the home team’s locker room. Louis was barely putting any pressure on his right leg, but he’s waving to the few fans that travelled to Liverpool to watch their home team play. He shakes Valencia’s hand as the man asks if he’s alright.

“I’ve been better. Just don’t want you guys to be down a man when we have the lead and there’s still time on the clock. Mostly going to stick to the side though.” Louis shrugs and the game continues on.

There ends up being five minutes of stoppage time and the twenty-one year old thinks he’s going to die. Everytime he puts any sort of pressure on his leg, pain shoots through it and tears spring to his eyes. It’s such an intense pain that sometimes he thinks he’s going to just drop to the pitch, but he powers through to the end of the game.

As they’re leaving the field, the stadium is filled with boos and Louis tries to tell himself it’s because the home team lost.

************

“Jesus Christ! Fucking hell!” Louis’ shouts of pain can be heard down the hall as the team doctor tries to get his boot off. “Just leave it on, you sadist! Stop fucking touching it!”

“He’s going to be out for a few games. Next week is a definite no go. We’ll see how he is after that.” The doctor says as he writes the information on Louis’ chart. He turns to his assistant and sighs. “Go and get a compression wrap from the aid kit and get the x-ray machine ready. I’m going to have another go at this shoe. Probably wouldn’t be so bad if this idiot hadn’t insisted he keep playing.”

Louis is ready to protest when the doctor starts to tug on the shoe again and a blood curdling shout of pain is what comes out instead. “Please, please, just leave it!”

Twenty minutes later, they finally got the football boot off, after having to give Louis a handful of painkillers. They quickly x-ray his ankle and then wrap it before the doctor nods affirmatively. “It’s a serious sprain, but at least nothing looks torn or broken. Stay off of it for a few days and then slowly start to put pressure on it again. You know how these go.”

He stops Louis from jumping off the examination table and looks at him seriously. “I mean it, Lou. Keep off of it and don’t overdo it. I know you usually run yourself ragged with extra practices and everything, but not this week.”

“I’ll do my best,” Louis says as he scrunches up his nose. He’ll go home and prop his foot up and ice it and be back at practicing tomorrow morning.

“I’m serious. You could really screw up your ankle if you don’t stay off it.” The doctor reprimands once more. “I know you think you have something to prove being the young guy on the team, but this isn’t worth your pride.”

Louis sighs and nods. He honestly will try to stay off it, but his mind is already planning the next day’s drills.

************

He really should have listened to the team doctor.

Fifteen minutes into a rigorous training he had prepared for himself, he’s lying in his backyard of his flat clutching at his leg. His phone is- thankfully- only a few feet away since he had been listening to music when he fell, but he doesn’t know who to call. He can’t call his family or the media would have a field day (plus they were about two hours away if they left immediately). He couldn’t call anyone from the team because then they’d have to say something to the team doctor and to Van Gaal.

There was only one other person he could think of in this moment. He hadn’t spoken to Liam since the article had been published, but he was hopeful that the boy would answer anyway. Grabbing his phone, he presses the contact and brings his phone up to his ear to listen to the ringing. He uses that time to try and get his tears and breathing under control.

_“Hullo?”_

“Liam? Liam, it’s Louis. I’m… I need your help. I’ve fallen in my garden and I can’t… I should have just listened to the doctor, but I needed to practice. I was just going to run it off.” He’s rambling, he can hear that, but he isn’t sure how much Liam knows about the injury from yesterday. “Can you please just… Please, Liam.”

There’s hesitation from the other end before Liam seems to realise that Louis is done rambling aimlessly. _“I’ll be right over. Should I call for an ambulance?”_

“No! Too much media, too much speculation.” Louis nearly shouts into the receiver. He closes his eyes and uses the pain in his leg to try and focus his thoughts. “There’s a spare key in the bottom of the garden pot. Just please hurry.”

There’s a murmur of acknowledgement before the line disconnects.

As he lies there, Louis thinks over the last few weeks and what has lead up to this moment. It’s a blur of confessions, practices, and headlines. He wonders how Liam is handling everything and his heart immediately plummets as he realises that he hasn’t once stopped to ask Liam how he’s holding up. He’s been so worried about his facade and punishing himself for being attracted to Liam that he hasn’t spared a thought for the man’s well being.

The pain in his leg is nothing compared to the pain in his gut as he thinks that maybe Liam hates him a little. He knows that when that stupid article was published, he should have called his friend and checked on him or even just showed up to Liam’s house with pizzas and FIFA. Instead, he retreated and left Liam to fend for himself.

He needs to explain everything to Liam and make sure that he knows that Louis is in this for the long haul. Liam is really the only person in the whole league that treats him like a normal guy and he’s truly missed that feeling.

“Louis? Shit, Lou!” Liam’s voice carries across the garden from the patio and Louis can hear his hurried footfalls as he approaches.

He tries to smile up at his saviour. “Hello, Liam. Um, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

Liam huffs as he crouches beside the brunet and tries his best to help the injured boy to his feet. He’s practically carrying all of Louis’ weight by the time they manage to find a position that doesn’t cause Louis much pain. He just sighs and kicks the ball away towards the goal at the other end of the garden. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re on the injured reserved list. That’s means no practice and no games. You very well may have just fucked up your leg. You need to get it looked at again.”

“I’ll be fine for now. Just get me back inside and make me some tea. I just want to curl up and get warm right now. Laying on the grass in nothing but my trackies and jumper isn’t quite the day I planned on.” Louis says quietly. They need to have a talk about something more serious than Louis’ leg, but Liam seems to focus on that instead of the elephant in the room.

Liam carefully lies Louis down on the couch and slips a mountain of pillows under the man’s bum ankle before frowning. “I’ll get you some ice. Does it hurt to prop it up like that?”

“Twinges a bit, but, Liam, we need to talk about-”

“Tea and ice first, yeah?” Liam cuts him off and heads into the kitchen that he’s come to know like his own. “Just milk, right? I don’t know how you drink this stuff without sugar. It’s terribly bitter without it, but to each their own I guess.”

Louis listens to him talk about tea and sugar and his grandmother’s homemade biscuits for five minutes before he has a cup in his hands and ice on his ankle. He’s leveling Liam with a determined look. “Now, no running away this time, we need to talk.”

“No we don’t. We don’t need to discuss it. It was all just media rubbish and-”

“Liam,” Louis’ voice is stern and he needs the younger lad to shut up before he loses his nerve. It’s something that Louis needs to be honest about with Liam so that they can truly get over these awkward hurdles in their friendship. “I was ignoring you for about a week. We need to talk about why and what this means going forward.”

Liam sighs and looks down into his tea. “I know what this means. I know what you’re going to say. ‘Liam, you’re a great friend, but I need to focus on me’ and ‘I can’t have rumours about me liking men in the press.’ It’s okay. You can say it. I’ve heard it before.”

And that breaks Louis. The fact that someone would toss aside Liam’s friendship because of some journalist talking out of his arse hurts Louis inside. “That’s not what I was going to say. I don’t want to stop being friends with you. I… Look, I know that I may have come across as uncomfortable with the whole homosexual label, but that’s because it hits a little bit too close to home. I’ve just not… Come to terms with my sexuality like you have.”

It’s silent as Liam stares at him. His brown eyes seem confused for all of ten seconds before they soften and a more sympathetic look overtakes his face. “Oh, Lou…”

“No, none of that,” Louis says quickly as he watches the pity flit over his friend’s eyes. “This whole football career is thanks to my self-loathing so I don’t want to see any pity.” He sighs as he shuts his eyes and tries to calm his mind that going a million miles an hour. “When I was younger, I didn’t rightfully know what was wrong with me. Every other guy was noticing a girl’s tits and I was still in the whole ‘girls are gross’ mindset. I never really grew out of that. Then I started noticing my friend’s and the way their bodies were so much more… Attractive they were then a girl’s was.

“My mate Stan came out as gay and it terrified me. Like, I supported him and stuck by him, but sometimes he’d get the shit kicked out of him. He never made the footie team in secondary school because they were full up, but the asthmatic kid who couldn’t run the entire length of the pitch was somehow on the team. I just watched him get passed over because of something he couldn’t control and it scared me. I never wanted to be that way. I didn’t want my dreams to stop because I liked guys instead of birds, you know?” He takes a deep breath and tries to let it out slowly even though it’s stuttered and shaky. “Whenever I would notice a guy and like what was attractive about him, I practiced. Sometimes I scared my own mother by how much I would practice in a day, but I promised myself I would make it and then I wouldn’t have to worry about what people thought.”

He pauses here and looks down at the tea in his hand. It’s gone slightly cold, but he deems it still warm enough to drink and downs the whole cup in one go. He hadn’t realised how dry his throat had gotten while talking about all of this. “The practices turned into a sort of punishment and I would spend five or six hours running laps and pushing my body to go the extra mile. I worked on my footwork and passing- anything to get my mind off my thoughts and to put my body through hell. It seemed to work for a while. I still do it. That’s why I was out there practicing. I was… I was punishing myself for ignoring you, for thinking about you, for being an absolute asshole to you. I guess it didn’t matter though. When I was in a panic you were the first person I thought to call.”

Louis refuses to look at Liam. He doesn’t want to see the pain and pity he’s seen from his mother and Stan. He doesn’t want to be pitied, he just wants Liam to understand. He closes his eyes tightly so he doesn’t have to see the rejection he knows is coming.

Instead of words, there’s a shift to his right and suddenly there’s a warm pressure against his lips. He stops breathing for a moment.

When the pressure is gone, he slowly opens his eyes and sees Liam looking sheepishly at him. “Sorry, it just… Felt right. Like, I’ve been crushing on you hard and now I know that you are gay. I know that you’re not-”

Louis cuts him off by kissing him. It’s heaven and it is by far the best kiss he’s ever received. He’s never kissed a guy before, only girls, and this just… Feels right. His arms find their way around Liam’s neck and pull him down closer wanting all of him in that moment. His fingers find themselves tangled in the small curls that Liam is sporting and he lets himself get lost in the moment.

He needs this. The pressure of everything has been building and building and he’s ready to just pop from all the stress. He thinks about what Stan had told him when they went to dinner months ago- _‘one day it’s going to burst and things won’t be able to be controlled after that.’_ He’ll be able to control himself, he knows it.

************

The next day finds himself curled on the couch with his leg propped up and Liam bringing him endless amounts of tea and careful little make out sessions. Louis still isn’t comfortable with his sexuality, but when he’s making out with Liam he doesn’t care about anyone else. He feels selfish in a way, but he wonders how long he’s needed this- needed Liam.

They don’t talk about it- they probably should. Liam apparently is on the injured reserve list for City as well, so neither have a practice or training to hurry off to. They just lie there and talk about their families and anything else that comes to mind. It’s an easy way to kill time, before they play a few rounds of FIFA and make out again.

“Manchester Derby is coming up,” Liam says softly as he cards his fingers through the fringe that’s laying across Louis’ forehead. “Neither of us will be playing either. God this is so upsetting. My first derby and I don’t get to make a difference.”

“Do you have to be there?” Louis asks as he flips the channel on the television looking for something to watch.

Liam shakes his head. “If we were at home I would have to be there, but since it’s away I’m not required to show up. It’s in Manchester though so I might as well go. I have to buy a ticket still. We aren’t comped like we are at home. I literally buy like a normal person.”

Louis frowns before looking at the younger man. “Or you sit in the box seats with me and we cheer Manchester on together. That would be okay, right? You're technically at the game and you're there as my guest. It's perfect.”

Liam just laughs and leans in to kiss the pout away from Louis’ face. “Whatever you want, Lou.”

************

Come derby day, everything changes. Louis still isn't comfortable with the whole homosexual rumours so he made Liam drive separately, arrive separately, and do just about everything apart from Louis himself.

They’re in the box at halftime when Liam leans over to grab Louis’ hand.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks softly so the waiters by the door couldn't hear him. He's staring down at their hands, fingers intertwined and perfect looking together. “Someone could see us.” He takes his hand away quickly and looks about the room to make sure that none of the staff saw.

Liam frowns and looks around as well. “Louis, no-one is even looking at us. Besides, we spent the whole week at your place snogging our faces off-”

“Shhh! Are you trying to get us in the papers? Jesus, it’s like you want everyone to know!” Louis says as he smiles manically at a passing server. He waits until he’s sure no one can hear, and even then he drops his voice. “I told you, I’m not out yet. Just because we made out doesn’t mean I’m ready to be public. God, it’s like you want me to be miserable.”

The room grows silent as Liam just sits there and blinks at Louis. He takes a deep breath before clearing his throat and turning back to the game. “Right. Didn’t think being linked to me would be a miserable affair. Whatever you want, Louis.”

The tension between them during the rest of the game is palpable and they mustn’t be the only ones who feel it. The waiters seem to approach them cautiously and ask if they would like another drink or perhaps some food. They’re just doing their job, but Louis honestly feels like he’s being suffocated right now.

The game ends with neither side scoring and nothing highly spectacular happening. 

Before Louis can say a word after the final whistle, Liam is out the door and slamming it behind himself.

************

_@Real_Liam_Payne: Sometimes even the most spectacular things turn sour. Keep your lovers close and your friends closer- friends are the ones who hurt you. xx_

Louis rolls his eyes at the self absorbed tweet that graces his twitter feed. He’s half tempted to unfollow the posh twat, but people would make the connection, eventually, and he doesn’t want that. Instead he sits in his house alone, foot propped up and glaring at the television.

************

He’s not cleared for the game against Crystal Palace as the doctor says that his ankle looks aggravated and pries to find out if Louis had been practicing on the injury.

Louis merely says that he can neither confirm nor deny the allegations made against him by the man. He won’t tell him that the only aggravation was when Liam and he got a bit too intense on his couch. They don’t need to know that bit- either way, he isn’t cleared to play and he’s not heading to South Norwood to watch them play.

************

He’s watching Sky Sports when he sees that Liam has been suspended for a month- in the Premier League and International Games- because of unsportsmanlike conduct. He frowns and turns the volume up a bit more.

_“Seems like Liam Payne of Manchester City is going to miss another four weeks, but this time it’s for his conduct on the field. During warm ups, it seems that Wes Hoolahan of Norwich City had a few words for the star of Manchester City and none of them were kind. Payne seemed to be keeping himself together until Hoolahan got a bit too close and Payne turned around and punched him. They were both immediately escorted from the field and given a four week suspension. Hoolahan may be out longer because Payne broke his nose. A huge loss to both sides, but Manchester seemed to rally and take the win.”_

They haven’t talked since the derby- honestly, Louis doesn’t want to- but he does still care. He quickly texts the suspended boy and hopes he doesn’t receive a scathing remark in reply. “What the hell happened out there? Are you okay? What the fuck did he say to you?”

He stays glued to his television for any updates and really only hears about his own injury.

He never gets a reply.

************

He’s cleared to rejoin team practices the Wednesday before their game against West Bromwich Albion. He’s slow to jog around the pitch with the others and he spends more time stretching, but everyone seems to understand. Van Gaal actually asks if he feels up to staying a whole practice or if he wants to dip out a bit early to ice his ankle a bit more, but he knows he needs to get back on it so he stays the four hours like everyone else.

It’s not a bad practice, he’s doesn’t connect as often as he’d like, but he makes at least fifty percent of them which everyone around him seems to be counting as a win. He’s noticed that his agility is still a bit shifty, stopping suddenly and quick moves are sloppy since his ankle is still a bit stiff, but he knows he’ll be ready by Saturday.

************

Week twelve against West Brom is amazing and Louis is honestly buzzing.

It’s his first game back since the injury and it feels like he’s never left. It’s a home game and the crowd is roaring as he steps out holding the hand of a little girl he’s never met before. She’s struggling to keep up with his long strides and he looks down at her concentrated face and smiles brightly. “Wanna piggy back ride, love?”

She smiles brightly and nods and he holds the line up as he crouches down to allow her to jump onto his back. She smiles brightly and giggles in his ear as she desperately clings to his jersey with one hand and waves to the cheering crowd with the other.

He stands in line with his team, letting her down softly and holding her hand tightly as they go through the normal festivities before kick-off. The captains do their coin toss and everyone is quickly shuffled around to where they need to be. Louis bends down and quickly hugs the little girl, accepting the high five she gives him before running off with the rest of the children.

The game itself is a blur to Louis. He knows they all played exceptionally well. He remembers celebrating with Lingard at the fifty-second minute when he managed to get the ball between the posts and he know he did well, when his team is burying him in a pile on the field after he scores a penalty goal at the ninety-first minute putting the Devils up two over West Brom and that’s how the game ends.

Louis heads home excited and looking forward to two weeks of practice while other teams have their international games.

************

When Louis finally gets home early on Monday morning from the pub after celebrating with the team, he’s ready to crash. He wants nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep until Wednesday at the earliest. Instead, he comes face to face with a horde of news reporters and cameras flashing in his face.

“Louis! Louis! Is it true that you spent a whole week with Liam Payne while you both were out on injured reserved?”

“Is it true that you and Mister Payne got up to questionable behaviour while he was staying with you? Louis! Louis!”

The brunet suddenly can’t breathe as the reporters are getting closer and closer to the truth. How did they find out? Liam wouldn’t do that to him. Would he? Sure, he had been mad about the whole hand holding thing, but he’d never do this to Louis, right?

Without thinking, he gets back into the taxi that drove him home. “I'll pay you three hundred quid to take me back to the pub. I can't… Please.”

The ten minute drive feels like forever, but when Louis makes it back to the pub and inside his car he figures sleeping in the backseat is his best option. He uses his sports bag as a pillow and curls up to cover himself himself in his training jacket.

It's going to be a long night.

************

Liam is at home when the story breaks. He’s just happy that his team had drawn without him. His manager is making an appeal to the Board of Directors this upcoming week to try and get him back for their game against Liverpool in two weeks time.

He knows he shouldn't let what people say get to him, and normally he doesn't, but Hoolahan had started in on _Louis_ instead of Liam. It wasn't anything new for Liam, but to hear someone talking about his friend - if his relationship with Louis can even be classed as merely ‘friendly’ - in such a manner set him off. He can still hear those vicious words ringing in his head.

_“Bet you got him to suck you off. Always thought he was a faggot. Bet he even let you fuck him. How was it, Payno? Did you finally put the little bitch in his place?”_

Even though he and Louis aren’t talking, he couldn't let anyone talk about his friend in that way. It was disgusting and heart breaking and Liam immediately knew why Louis wasn't ready to face the world as gay. He himself hadn't wanted his sexuality to be public, but he certainly wasn't going to hide it if it came up either. He could only imagine the immense pressure and hatred one puts on themselves by repressing such a vital piece of who they are.

It’s late when he sees the news story for the first time. He pales when he sees the headline on the television.

_“It seems like the Premier League scandals just don't stop this season. A worker for Manchester United came forward with this shocking recording from inside the private box he was working in. The video shows then injured Louis Tomlinson and then injured Liam Payne watching the derby together. Take a look.”_

The quality of the video isn't that spectacular, but it's good enough to be able to make out their identities and pick up their conversation. Liam watches in horror as his past self grabs Louis’ hand and their entire conversation about their snogging and week together. This is not what he wanted to happen at all.

_“The worker, who does not wish to be identified for obvious reasons, said that the two seemed like they were in a lovers’ spat after that. Of course, Liam tweeted the next day and we can only imagine who that tweet could possibly be about.”_

Liam’s mouth feels dry and he wonders if Louis knows about this (he knows the team went out afterwards according to Louis’ Twitter). He wonders if the player is safe and if he’s happy. He needs to make sure.

He texts Louis a fair amount of times before he calls him instead. The phone goes straight to voicemail. That worries Liam more than anything.

He slips his shoes on and grabs his jacket. He needs to make sure Louis is okay.

************

When Louis awakens the next morning, it’s to a headache and a dead phone digging him in the back. His sports bag has a huge wet spot of drool on the top, but otherwise everything seems to be in order. He groans as he sits up and nearly every joint in his body cracks. It wasn’t the comfiest of places to sleep, but at least he wasn’t disturbed. He opens the car door and gets out, thinking of where to stop and get some breakfast from.

Plugging in his phone, he decides that a good greasy McDonald’s Breakfast Muffin would probably help him and starts the car to get some heat pumping through the nice ride. His phone finally gets enough power to turn on and starts vibrating like crazy. He checks it before going anywhere. Seventy eight text messages and fifty nine missed calls. That’s got to be a record- even for Louis.

He opens the messages app and sees that there’s at least one from everyone on the team and a few from his family members, but there’s about twenty from Liam alone and that when it all comes rushing back to him. “Oh god.” He carefully opens the unread messages and starts to scroll through them.

_‘Louis, I didn’t say anything.’_

_‘Are you still out with the team?’_

_‘Please answer me when you see this. I’m worried about you.’_

_‘Rooney tweeted that you all left. Louis?’_

_‘I’m such a twat. I’m so sorry.’_

_‘Louis, please answer me.’_

_‘I just called your phone and it’s either turned off or dead.’_

_‘I’m going to your house. Please be there.’_

_‘The paparazzi outside said you got back in the cab when you got here. Where are you?’_

_‘If you drove after you were drinking I swear to god I’m going to kill you.’_

_‘Jesus, you aren’t dead right?’_

_‘Please don’t be dead.’_

_‘I need you.’_

_‘Answer me.’_

_‘Fucking hell. You irritate me so much.’_

_‘Just let me know you’re okay.’_

_‘Louis?’_

_‘I’m sorry this happened.’_

_‘You better fucking be alive.’_

_‘I love you.’_

Louis can feel the tears falling down his face as he reads Liam’s messages. Even when they weren’t talking to each other, Liam cared about him. He immediately dials the boy’s number, waiting for someone to answer.

_‘Hullo?’_

“Li… I’m- I’m okay. I slept in my car in the pub’s parking lot. I didn’t know where to go. I…” Louis’ voice breaks and he starts sobbing. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to be out; he didn’t want to fall in love with Liam and have everything go to shit. Looks like you can’t always get everything you want. “Are you still at my house?”

_‘Yeah, yeah I’m still here. The paps are still here too. Do you want to come here or…?’_

“I’ll come home. I’m stopping to get food though. McDonald’s breakfast sound good?” He just needs to know that everything is going to be okay between them. “I’ll buy one of everything and a handful of hashbrowns, yeah?”

Liam’s breathy laugh comes through the receiver. _‘Yeah. I’ll see you soon, mate.’_

Louis ends the call and takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He feels like shit and he knows he probably looks like it too, but he needs to get home. He grabs his sunglasses from the armrest compartment and slips them on before putting his car into drive and heading home.

Twenty minutes later, he’s got three bags of greasy McDonald’s food in his passenger seat and he’s trying to navigate through the swarm of paparazzi on his street. His windows are rolled up and tinted, but he’s still got his sunglasses on just in case. He’s going maybe a metre per second to ensure that he doesn’t hit anyone or anything. He finally makes it to his driveway and sees Liam’s car parked there. Thank god his garage is clean and able to be used.

He gets in his garage and closes the door quickly before letting out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Grabbing the food, he heads inside and sets foot inside his kitchen. He hears the news playing softly in the background, but there’s a more pressing noise that he needs to locate- the horrendous snoring.

He makes his way into the living room and stops short when he sees Liam curled up on his couch, covered in a Manchester United blanket and sleeping peacefully. It makes Louis’ heart hurt for something more and it’s not until that moment that he realises how truly lonely he is.

Without a second thought, he strips himself of his coat and shoes and socks and puts his keys, wallet, and phone on the coffee table in front of him. He lifts the blanket and sees that Liam has pressed himself up against the back of the couch and Louis worms his way into the small bit of space left.

Liam stirs at the extra heat and weight against him, “Lou? You’re home. Are you okay? Did you-”

Louis reaches up and covers his mouth with his hand. “Later. For now, just please… Hold me and let me sleep.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Liam says softly. He yawns and places a soft kiss to the fluffy hair of the older lad.

************

“I talked to Van Gaal and he said that everyone assigned to our box that day was fired,” Louis says later on that evening. “He also said that I don’t have to come into practices until the eighteenth. He wants me to take some time and get myself in order. He said that the club supports me and that the boys have all already talked to him about it and none of them care. It’s just… I sort of expected to get fired and to have this huge backlash.”

Liam runs his hand though the fringe that hasn’t been properly gelled back and smiles softly at the older player. “I was out and nothing happened to me. Why would United be any different? They are more of the rag-tag misfits than City.”

“I resent that statement,” Louis says with little to no bite. He smiles nonetheless and looks up at Liam shyly. “Just the way everyone has been. Donny wasn’t kind to Stan so I didn’t think Manchester would be kind to me. Guess I was wrong.”

“What does this mean for us though?”

Louis stops and thinks about that. Honestly, now that he is out as gay he could date whoever he wanted. It was a freeing and terrifying thought. “Well, I’m still not comfortable with everything… I think I’m going to get a therapist. Maybe talk some of my issues out. I want to be able to give us a try, but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to be affectionate in public just yet. It’s all too new. I’m still terrified that everything is going to go wrong.”

Liam smiles brightly though. “That’s more than I was hoping for. I promise this time, you lead everything.” He leans in and catches Louis’ cheek in a quick kiss.

Rolling his eyes, Louis catches Liam by the jaw and pressing their lips together.

************

It’s been a year and a half of therapy and Louis finally feels like he’s a normal person. It had been difficult at first when Doctor Melissa Andrews had wanted to delve into his mind to find out what made him hate himself so much. He would often come home and yell at Liam and tell the lad constantly that he hated him. He would scream and shout until he couldn’t anymore and then he would just cry for a few hours wrapped up in Liam’s arms as the younger shushed him and held him close.

It started to get better before long and they were soon able to enjoy small outings like dinner and a movie or shopping together. It was the little things that excited Louis the most. The pictures of him and Liam that used to get shoved in his face that disgusted him now seemed precious and beautiful. It’s amazing what therapy can do for a person’s outlook.

That season, neither team had taken home the League title. Shockingly enough, it had in fact been Tottenham that pulled through at the last second and taken the trophy home. Then the summer had been spent playing for all the international tournaments and the Olympics. Liam and Louis had represented England in the Rio 2016 games and made quite a name for themselves after scoring goal after goal for their country. August brought the beginning of a new Premier League season and both teams stayed close all season.

Now, on the fourteenth of May, 2017, the two teams meet for the final match of the season. Both teams have a total of ninety-four points and the title is on the line.

Louis is standing in the tunnel that will lead them out to the field with a small boy grabbing at his hand. Across the tunnel, Liam is standing there with a little girl in his arms and they appear to be having a wonderful conversation. Louis can only smile as he watches his boyfriend’s face light up in a grin as she starts giggling at something he says to her.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s get ready to head out.” A voice calls down the tunnel as they are herded into their lines.

Liam stands next to Louis in his spot in his team’s line. “You ready to paint the town blue?”

“More like red,” Louis says happily as he looks over at the younger man. “Good luck out there. Heard you’ll be up against some prat called Tomlinson. Be careful, he’s a shifty bastard. Likes to slide tackle a lot.”

Liam just laughs. “I think I can handle him. Sounds pretty easy; unless he cheats. He wouldn’t be the kind to do that, would he?”

Louis just smiles and leans over to quickly leave a kiss on Liam’s lips. “I can’t give away all of his secrets. Besides, there’s a title on the line. You’re not getting anything else out of me.”

The teams start their walk out and Liam can’t fight the lovestruck grin from his face as he watches his boyfriend walk ahead of him. He thinks about the dinner he’s planned with their families for after the game and about the ring box that’s burning a hole in his jacket pocket in the locker room. No matter who wins tonight, it’s going to be a day to remember.


End file.
